That individual, tortured, twisted

That individual, tortured, twisted
oppressed by all life's experiences,
weighed down, now standing silent, now a strained
sound, no faith in herself, trusting no-one,

barely able to breathe, and if humbled
turning inward with hope and then showing
Him who on the cross meant to free her from
these snares how she trembles with the sorrow

that grips her, and how this grief is right. Then
it comes, she takes courage, bold need, faith stir
not only the tongue, but the heart to call

out: Beloved Father, protect me, care
for me here with this mercy: let me know
a little peace in my tormented way.

An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition
From V CLIV:314. See also B S1:170:170. No MSs; Valgrisi 171. See Mark 14:36, Rom 8:15, Gal 4:6. Key

Amaro Lagrimar
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